A story from the Sniper Some rich asses wife
by Dr. Denial
Summary: The Sniper enriches his audience with a tale of his first day as a hit man back in his youth after downing a few cases of beer. Let's listen!


Sniper's story

The Sniper enriches his audience with a tale of his first day as a hit man back in his youth after downing a few cases of beer. Let's listen!

"**Some rich asses wife"**

* * *

When I was a lot younger... like long time go-

Aw, not THAT long go.

Anyway, it was when I was jus' getting into the bounty-slash-hitman job. Way away before working for RED and co. Big game hunting at home was one thing for a young bloke like me with my skills to make a name. Wasn't long fore I discouvered there was more money in collecting bounties and tosh like that. I associated myself with a fella called, "Willy Broke". He was the one who got me name on the map, he took me under his wing and taught me all I know now. He used to be like me, hunting enthusiast walking round the bush with fat, stupid, rich whackers, giving them a small taste of being a real man. He got outta it though like me, making real money in the city, made a business out of it and was now helping me on my feet... couldn't have gotten this far without him I guess.

It was a majour leap from hunting game to hunting man, but it was where I was heading and I was proud of it. I was making tripe more then what I could bag back at home, and seeing the world, experiencing new experiences. I was on my own, and doing things I never thought I'd be doing at my age. It damn berated being back at home watching cattle all day an' night. Mum and dad didn't like me going away, but they surely didn't mind me visiting with hundreds in my pocket and making a real man of myself.

...they don't really care for hundreds anymore now...

Anyway, me and Broke made quite a team. With his experience an' all, we were pretty unstoppable. We skedaddled 'round Europe and a couple times to Japan... Been to London more times than I could count... never going there again...

Well, of course, all good things always come to an abrupt end. He decided to move back home, retire, settle down and get back into game hunting, and I decided to keep moving 'round sniping. You can imagine I was a bit tossed about being on me own for the first time on hits; I never actually killed anyone on purpose before all this. But Broke, he was honest and convinced me to keep up in the job. He told me I was the best shooter to ever ravage amongst his side. Hell, I even remember his nickname he gave me, "Spunk"

...it never caught on though... not that I want you to call me that for now on or anything...

I also remember, the last thing he told me too, he said on our last night as partners, he said... he told me, "Boy, you'll get ta keel hundreds, perhaps thousands and millions of people an never bat an eye. But you'll never, ever, ever forget the face of your first."

Well, I don't think those were his exact words, he was pretty pissed when he said that so I think that's what he meant.

So, I got me first hit job without Broke. I was hanging around in Amsterdam, got a job to blink out a lady named... Candy...Candace? Some rich asses wife. She was roughly 30 years younger than him and quite a looker too I might add. She looked like the sort used to living her days as the perfect trophy wife and candidate to bear his monstrous offspring. But as you know, there was trouble in paradise and it was my job to sort it out.

Well anyway, turns out she was fooling around with some young, handsome guy; a chef for a little restaurant. Well, as you know, every big guy's philosophy is that if he can't have her, no one can. But my only target was Candace, but left out her boyfriend for some reason. Yeah, but I'm not gunna question his logic, a job's a job and I wasn't going to not accept a job for one little jib.

Well, turns out on that day of the hit, she and her pretty boy would be coming home later that afternoon from the lawyer's office. Turns out she was trying to get a divorce from her husband, which obviously explained the hit.

So, I waited over 4 hours on top of that damn hotel building waiting for them to that shitty hole-in-the-wall apartment of the boyfriends. I drank caffeinated coffee back then, so I was real antsy and bored... at least with Broke 'round I had someone to talk too. I was starting to miss him a bit. It was also fucking hot there too. Me and 'im try to perform hits in rain and cloud as much as we could, and if we can, our own room with a view. I know it sounds non-cliché and stupid, but believe me, rather sit in rain then in sun. Get sun in your eyes and it's hot and well... why I choose the roof in the middle of a bloody drought I have no damn idea, but I did.

So, I finally saw the pair coming up the way below and into the building, being cutesy and holding arms and holding doors for one another. I got everything ready; positioned my good rifle, got my hand gun close to me just in case, threw out my fags, put my cup to the side so I wouldn't knock it over, got my case open for easy cleanup, re-thought out me escape route and an extra route just in case I was followed and I was set.

I saw her through the scope as she got inside the apartment. She was already wearing all red, one of those fancy, formal dresses. I saw she had her hair pinned up all tall when she took off her hat, made me think the bullet would be hard to be removed through bloody, matted-up, rat nest hair... that made me chuckle, she must have paid a bit for her upkeep on her beehive...C'mon mate I hadta laugh, her head was like a huge target, almost itching to be shot... right where I wanted her... right in front of the window... if only she would stop moving around back and forth.

Couldn't hear them, but they were clearly bickerin' bout something; she opened the balcony doors wide and stood out into the light breeze. An' I saw that he had a lit cigar. That solves it, good thing too, an open door would be easier, no noise and no glass anywhere. Better yet, she stayed where she was, looking down at the street.

All I had to do was to shoot her before she went back into the flat. One single shot and it would be done. I was trembling a bit with anticipation. A rookie move, but I couldn't blame myself, it was my first job and there is a first for everything. It was there I learned that caffeine and sniping didn't mix as you'll know. I admit, maybe the shaking was because I was a-a little nervous... But I tried not to think much of it, it's how I felt when I first went with Broke in the first place and I got used to it after a while.

And it wasn't really murder. Sure, I was making a lifestyle choice that goes against common ideology and sense and I was making the choice of choosing someone whether to live or die- Hey, it wasn't MY chose, it was someone else's. Course, I ain't a fucking wackjob, I got principals and all, I was doing it humanely. I know there are people who rather have a clean shot to the noggin then let's say, a slow knife-cut through the neck or ripping ones limbs off using a fright-train. I even got my escape route to go by the cathedral, to say a little prayer for the deceased. It's a bit quirk but it's nice don't ya think?

I still remember how I felt, how one would really kill their first human being. I admit, it's a thrill, more so then killing an animal. You pull the trigger just slightly... then pull it all the way with a click. You hear the crack of the barrel, feel the momentum of the rifle move you on the shoulder, the brief smell of metal and what smells like powder. It's the strangest feelin'...almost like butterflies... or little worms crawling around in your fingers and chest.

So, I shot the shot at her head.

But... something happened.

In that millisecond between her standing perfectly still looking out from the balcony and me pulling the trigger, she moved. She must have moved just slightly cause one moment, she was where I wanted her, the other she was clutching her chest and spinning around and ducking. I didn't miss a body though...the lady was short, and from inside the room where her head was-

ehh... you know...projectiles and all that... I got her boy in the chest.

Ya, I was pissed. I must have yelled something fierce in my disbelief, I don't even remember that much about that part...

So yeah, he's still alive, bleedin' on the floor, wearing a worried, frightened expression I know all too well of. He was panting, staring at his wound in shock, clutching the drapes like it would help. Poor Candy, her shrill screams coming from her cover under the window.

What did I do? Well, okay I was cursing and beating myself up for missing that great shot and missing all together. I was hot, thirsty, shaky and sweat in my eyes, who wouldn't? And I had to get the one person I wasn't getting paid for either. Now it was going to be a bitch to get the job done now, she's gunna get protection, and go into hidin', get the police involved. It was over, my brilliant career was down the shitter before it even started.

You could image my anger for buggering up my first job.

So, I was on my way to making my escape and finishing my temper tantrum, when I saw something caught me completely off guard. I hadta double check my scope to correctly see it.

Before, like I said, she was safe hiding under the window for protection from my view, but now she was back! Couldn't believe it, she was down on the floor with him, holding his body, her hands trying to stop the bleeding that was clearly slowing down, her lips mumbling what I sure was reassurances... there were tears in her eyes sittin' there, cradling 'im, comforting 'im...and she was completely in my sights again.

I quickly went into action once more, setting up my gun and reloading' an' all that. I went back into the scope, and aimed perfectly onto the back of her still nicely made hair-do.

Yet, I hesitated.

She must have known I was still there, watching her. Either she's a real fucking stupid women or... I don't know, maybe she didn't care. She was pettin' him, reassurin' him, easing his last moments as he laid bleedin' ta death on that shaggy floor...An' I swear, she looked right at me before I pulled the trigger once more.

I knew I made the right kill this time, but I didn't bother ta double check. The moment I saw a spray of blood and her sudden recoil to her side, I pulled away and packed up. I was still trembling as I marched down the zigzags of alleyways, walking a bit aimlessly, trying not to think. I blamed the coffee and managed to get inside the church. I only meant to pop in there for a bit... but I guess I sat in that pew for hours cause someone asked if I needed a place to stay.

So, I left Amsterdam, only staying another day to collect my check. I went to London a bit. I got a job to sort out dealings between two gangs. I can tell ya, THAT was hell of a lot easier to handle... Sniping's a grand job, but you need the stomach of a steel horse or something stronger. Killings easier after a while I guess, I didn't have it then, but I do now...

...But one thing... one thing was... I never, ever forgot her face.


End file.
